


all I wanna do (is come runnin' home to you)

by merthurxmalec



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers 4 speculation, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Gen, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, M/M, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Tony Stark Needs a Hug, someone please let me babies LIVE, steve rogers also needs a hug, there is a happy ending though folks I promise, this is mostly me giving Tony stark a lot of suffering because im evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:32:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merthurxmalec/pseuds/merthurxmalec
Summary: Tony Stark doesn't have a family.(Until he does).or:How Tony Stark lost, gained, and then lost his family- in that order.





	all I wanna do (is come runnin' home to you)

**Author's Note:**

> Heyy so this is for T, who listens to me come up with Ways To Make Tony Stark Suffer(TM) at all times of the day. Happy late birthday girl- since I am yet to finish your ACTUAL birthday fic, take this instead? Pretty please? 
> 
> Not beta'd, as usual so all mistakes are my own. Please excuse my Britishness- I tried, I really did.

Tony Stark doesn’t remember having a family.

 

Sure, he had a father, who prioritised absolutely everything in this world over his son and wife. He had a mother, who did truly love him but had no idea how exactly to be a mother to a kid who didn’t have anyone else. He had Jarvis, and okay, maybe Jarvis was family, but he was he only family Tony had and even then, he didn’t have him for long. And yes, Rhodey was his family but Rhodey was hardly ever around so he never really felt the difference. Pepper was like family, but he paid her, really and the whole on-again-off-again thing they had going on really ruined the whole family vibe.

 

So yes, Tony Stark had been alone for as long as he can remember. He didn’t mind it- honestly he didn’t. He had his bots and he had Pepper breathing down his neck and then he had Iron Man. Love, family, a sense of belonging- all that was from a release of chemicals, plain and simple. Tony Stark is a scientist before anything else- he knows doesn’t need a release of dopamine to feel validated.

 

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it, though.

 

(But Tony Stark was used to not getting things he wants.)

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Stark has been generous enough to offer you all accommodation at his tower, and I do not understand why none of you are taking it up!” Fury’s one eye wonder stared down each Avenger with a definitive glare. The Captain was red, possibly with embarrassment, probably with anger- hell if Tony knows. The injuries he got from his fight with the Winter Soldier- Barnes, his brain supplies him with- have mostly faded away but have left him with a scar deeper than any serum can heal. Tony knows it, he can see it- he can’t do anything about it though. He and Cap are a force to not be reckoned with when on the field- they work together seamlessly, fight together as if they have been doing so all their lives. Off the field, however- that is a different story. They are tentative teammates, but not they’re not friends. Iron Man may have the right to comfort Steve about the appearance of a ghost from the past, but Tony Stark doesn’t. But he doesn’t think Steve needs Iron Man here, he needs Tony Stark- and Tony Stark doesn’t have the right.

 

(But if Tony has all satellites looking for a ping on Barnes, no one has to know.)

 

“Wait a minute- did Fury just call me generous? J, please tell me you recorded that conversation.”

 

“Don’t make me regret it, Stark,” Fury says, a hint of an amused smile dancing on his lips.

 

“You know you love me really, my dear Director,” Tony said with an exaggerated wink. From his peripheral vision he could see Rogers stiffen, his frown becoming deeper.

 

“Dr. Banner took up on Stark’s offer months ago,” Fury continues, pretending as if Tony had not opened his glorious mouth 5 seconds ago. “I want all of you to move into the tower by the end of the month. This is non-negotiable.” He added as he saw Clint opening his mouth to speak.

 

“Fury, with all due respect, if you want the Avengers to survive long enough to actually save the world all of us living together may not be the best idea.” Clint says. Fury stares at him, raising an unamused eyebrow.

 

“The Avengers aren’t dealing with wannabe supervillains anymore, you’re dealing with actual alien threats. We need you all together in one place.”

 

“If we don’t kill each first,” Clint muttered under his breath.

 

“Wait a second,” Tony shouts out suddenly, “what makes you think I want any of them in my house anyway!”

 

“I want all of you in the Stark Tower by the end of the month. Now get lost, dealing with you lot gives me a headache.”

 

With a swift flourish of his long overcoat, Fury stormed out of the room, leaving a bewildered team in his wake. “Well,” Tony said, clapping his hands, “looks like we’re roomies now.”

 

The only sound in the room was of Bruce’s muttered “this is going to go well.”

 

* * *

 

It turns out the last person to move into the tower was Steve, who carried in 2 meagre boxes of belongings in the day before Fury’s self-proclaimed deadline.

 

The thing was however, that Tony was not made aware of this. No, instead he had to walk into his kitchen after a twelve hour work binge in the lab to see a half-naked Captain Ass-Pants sitting on his breakfast bar nibbling on toast at ass-o’clock in the morning.

 

(Tony suddenly really appreciated Fury, not that he won’t carry THAT thought to his death bed.)

 

“Hello, Mr Stark,” Steve said, looking up to smile at him but making absolutely no move to grab a shirt like normal people do in the morning.

 

“I- coffee,” Tony muttered, moving towards the coffee machine and filling up his “I am Iron Man” cup. He took a long sip, moaning with pleasure as he felt the caffeine mingle with his blood. He opened his eyes, turning in Steve’s direction to watch him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

 

“Tony,” he says.

 

“Huh, what?” Steve replies, looking dazed.

 

“Mr Stark is my dad. We’re teammates and roomies now, and I would rather like us to be friends too. Call me Tony.”

 

Steve smiled, and Tony found he quite liked it. Steve had a bright smile- a juxtaposition to his entire personality, to be honest. When Steve smiled, Tony could see a glimpse of the man Steve Rogers used to be before he became Captain America- the man Tony had seen on film countless of times and always equated to a myth rather than a real life person. But here, the smiling man sitting opposite Tony was proof that Steve Rogers was no myth- he was just a man out of his time.

 

“I would like that too,” Steve whispered softly, “Tony.”

 

Tony matched Steve’s smile with his own, beckoning him to stand up. “Alright, let’s give you the million dollar tour.” He paused by the door, leaning against the frame as he watched Steve put his plate under the sink.

 

“It’s good to have you here, Cap.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

(It took Tony nearly four years after the Avengers first moved into the tower to figure out that maybe he had a family after all.)

 

(It took him four years, three months and twelve days to lose that family.)

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Tony walked into his living room, he felt like a glitter monster came and vomited all over the place.

 

“FRIDAY, is it just me or have supervillains adopted a more… unconventional way of defeating me? Do I need to dispatch a suit?”

 

“I’m afraid this is just the Christmas spirit, boss.” FRIDAY replied dryly.  

 

(He really does need to reprogramme his AI.)

 

Christmas. That’s a thing he hasn’t celebrated in… a while. Last Christmas was a solemn affair- Pepper was in Austria for a meeting that Tony refused to go to, and Rhodey was still in recovery from the accident. Tony spent most of the day in his lab, working on a new Spiderman suit for the kid. At about 6pm, he got a bottle of bourbon out and celebrated in the usual Stark way, with a bottle and a flip phone for company.

 

Somehow, this Christmas seems to be different.

 

“Mr. Stark!” came a voice from above him. Tony looked up to see a certain spider-kid hanging by web in the ceiling.

 

“Kid what are you doing?”

 

“It’s Christmas, Mr Stark! I’m decorating!”

 

“Why are you decorating alone, and on the ceiling?” answered Tony, baffled.

 

“Well, he’s not alone,” came a voice from behind him. He turned around to find Rhodey, May and Pepper, all smiling at him softly. Rhodey came and clasped him into a hug. “Hey man” he said, and Tony buried his face further into the crick of Rhodey’s shoulder. Rhodey held him tightly for a minute, not asking questions because Rhodey _knows-_ he knows what Tony is thinking of, who Tony is thinking of.

 

Rhodey is awesome like that.

 

He wrapped an arm around Pepper, accepting a kiss on the cheek as May came over to greet him.

 

“Merry Christmas Eve, Tony,” May said, and Tony smiled in response.

 

“Merry Christmas Eve, May,” Tony replied. “You didn’t have to come here, I’m sure you had plans for Christmas.

 

“Nonsense,” May replied in her usual no-bullshit tone. “Christmas is for being spent with family, after all.”

 

If Tony Stark’s eyes filled up with water, it was because of the steam coming from the hot lasagne in May’s hands.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Destruction was all Tony saw when he walked off the spaceship.

 

He had been to Wakanda before, of course he had. T’Challa was a supporter of the Accords, Wakanda was the most technologically developed country in the world.

 

~~(It is where Steve was, though he wasn’t supposed to know that.)~~

Yeah, he’d been to Wakanda, he’d seen the green fields, rich with beauty and life.

 

The fields in front of him were barren. Gone. Dead.

 

Dead, like the rest of the world.

_(I don’t wanna go, Mr. stark please, I don’t wanna go_ still echoed in his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly to block it out.)

 

He turned around, ready to ask Nebula if they accidentally landed in the wrong place _because this can’t be it._

 

Then came his voice.

 

“Tony?” he said quietly, his voice thick with grief and relief and something else- something Tony can’t quite put his finger on.

 

“Steve,” he whispered quietly, too quietly for anyone to hear.

 

(He heard it anyway.)

 

* * *

 

 

“Peter?” Pepper asked quietly, afterwards, after Tony had been cleaned up and fed and shut in a room with the order of going to sleep because no one _knew_ , no one knew the nightmares that zoomed in front of him every time he closed his eyes.

 

_(Idon’twannagoIdon’twannagopleaseMrStarkIdon’twannago)_

_(I’msorry.)_

Maybe the look on Tony’s face was enough, or maybe it was the tears that flowed down his cheek, as if the name broke a dam within him. Maybe Pepper had known the answer before she had even asked the question, but after a moment of silence Pepper pulled Tony against herself and held him tight. He could feel the wetness of her tears dampening his shirt, but the tears only gave him permission, permission to wrap his arms tightly around her and mourn the son they both lost.

 

He could feel Steve’s curious eyes on him, dancing around the room as if torn between giving the two private time to mourn and striding up to Tony and demand why he is so upset in the first place. That’s Steve, authoritative but sympathetic, even if the last conversation they had was less of a conversation and more of a beating each other into the cold, frozen snow of Siberia. He glanced over at Steve, meeting his eyes to convey the message, a silent _later_ floating in between the vast space between them. He can see the exact moment Steve understands, because Steve’s eyes go wide with astonishment, as if he can’t quite believe Tony is willing to have another conversation with him.

 

As far as decisions go, Tony himself isn’t sure why he made that one.

 

The truth is, despite everything he trusts Steve- trusting Steve is a feeling that has been etched into his bones since the first time they fought together in the debris of New York. Like everything with Steve, it is an annoying thing that _doesn’t go away._ He tried washing it out with alcohol, trying destroying it with that awful flip phone Steve gave him with a promise. But it doesn’t go away, because his feelings for Steve are as stubborn as the man himself- Tony ultimately submitted to it.

 

It is much later, in the darkness of Wakanda where the only light came in the form of stars that held Tony’s nightmares and a moon that looked red with the blood of everyone they lost, that Tony said his first word to Steve Rogers in over two years.

 

“He was my kid,” Tony began as a way of greeting- because they never did need greetings, did they? They just knew. “He was my kid, and he died in my arms and I couldn’t save him.”

 

“Oh, Tony,” Steve said softly, and hesitantly placed a trembling hand on Tony’s shoulder, gently pulling him into a hug. He did it slowly, trying to give time for Tony to pull away, unsure of the boundaries between them. But Tony eased into it, because he needed this- he needed a resemblance of what life was like before Peter Parker because he doesn’t think he is strong enough to live a life without him.

 

When May arrived in Wakanda the next morning with Happy in tow, Tony braced himself for a slap that never came. Instead, May pulled him into a hug, sobbing in his shoulder. “You get our son back to us, Tony. You get him back.”

 

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Tony confessed quietly.

 

“Of course you can,” May said with a hint of a smile. “You’re Iron Man.”

 

He almost didn’t notice the hand Steve had placed on his shoulder, soft and comfortable. He craned his neck to meet Steve’s azure eyes. “Together, yeah?”

 

Steve smiled, and Tony felt the way he did sitting on that breakfast bar a lifetime ago, as if the world had been set in its right path again. “Always, Tony. Always.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Sacrifice._

The word rang in Tony’s ear, his eyes tearing away from Red Skull’s smug face to meet with Steve’s. The determination that had set as a dark cloud in his light eyes scared Tony, much more than Thanos or Loki or Ultron ever had.

 

“No.” Tony said, knowing what Steve was about to say.

 

“Tony, it is the only way,” Steve’s voice was calm and steady, and Tony felt an irrational anger bubble up inside him.

 

“I’m not going to let you do it, Steve!” Tony shouted, his voice cracking as his eyes filled up with tears.

 

“Tony… seventy-five years ago I tried to sacrifice myself to save the world. I woke up to see it meant nothing. Let me do this.” Steve edged closer to Tony as he spoke, the red lights of Vormir a beautiful contrast against Steve’s golden head. He looked mythical, like he didn’t belong in the place he was currently in.

 

“I won’t let you do it, Steve. I can’t.” Tony whispered.

 

“Why, Tony? What’s my life compared to the universes?”

 

“Because I lost everyone, Steve! Everyone!” Tony was shouting into Steve’s face now, his eyes wide as tears fell freely and without control. “I can’t lose you, too,” Tony added, quietly. “Let it be me, I’ll do it. No one will miss me here, I don’t mean anything.” Tony’s voice was earnest now, but Steve’s face hardened with anger. “If you can’t lose me, Tony,” he says, “what makes you think I can bear to lose you?”

 

“You have Bucky, you can start a new life with him,” Tony says quietly, because that’s what Steve wants, isn’t it? That is why he left home in the first place, left Tony.

 

“But I won’t have you. I’ve lived two years like that, I don’t want that life. But you have Pepper, and you have Peter. Peter needs you, more so than Bucky needs me.”

 

“I know you will look after Peter. I trust you with him.”

 

Steve smiles a sad smile.

 

“Tony, I was always the man out of his time. No matter how many books I read, how many internet searches I made, how many jeans I bought, I never belonged here. Maybe now I can go somewhere I actually belong. It is what I want. Let me have this.”

 

“Steve…” Tony whispers, “I can’t do it, I can’t kill you.”

 

“You don’t have to, sweetheart,” Steve says with a smile. Just stay where you are.”

 

“Steve…” Tony says again, because he can’t seem to get any other words out.

 

Steve cups Tony’s face gently between his hands. “Promise me something.” Steve says.

 

“Anything.”

 

“Don’t waste it. Don’t waste your life.” Tony flinched, his thoughts going back to a dark cave from a lifetime ago, where another man had laid down his life for Tony’s. “Be happy, Tony. It is all I want to see you do.” Tony nodded, his eyes locked with Steve’s. Steve lets go of Tony’s face, moving backwards and Tony finds himself craving the feeling of Steve’s body against his.

 

“I want to say something I’ve never said before.”

 

“You’re not going to say goodbye,” Tony whispers. “Please don’t. I can’t bear it.”

 

“I love you, Tony,” Steve whispers, and suddenly Tony can name the thing he always saw in Steve’s eyes. “Maybe it is selfish of me to tell you this, moments before I leave you. But I do, I’ve loved you for so long that I can’t remember a time that I didn’t. I just need you to know that.”

 

And without waiting for a reply, he flings himself off the cliff, Tony’s scream cutting through the air.

 

Tony walks over to the edge and stares the bottomless pit for a long time, so long that he loses track of time.

 

It was when the tears finally stops and a familiar numbness settles in that Tony gets up and leaves, picking up Steve’s shield from where he had abandoned it.

 

Tony’s soft “I love you, too” echoed through the air long after Tony had walked through the portal back home.

 

Alone.

 

* * *

 

 

The weight of the gauntlet was too much for Tony to bear and the power that had coursed through his veins a minute ago finally wore off as Tony collapsed to the ground, haunted by the images that had flashed in front of his eyes as he wielded the gauntlet.

 

It had shown him his deepest desires; a family, stability, happiness- and Steve.

 

And he almost gave into it, because Tony Stark is not a good man, no matter how much everyone tries to tell him otherwise. He is selfish, and he doesn’t deal well with loss. Because all his heart wanted was to get the man he loves back, to say fuck you to fate because of-fucking-course the universe snatched away love from his arms minutes after giving it to him. So yes, he almost did it, almost accepted the happiness because doesn’t he deserve it? Shouldn’t he get one shot at life?

 

But then he saw a soft smile and blue eyes heavy with determination as he flung himself off a cliff- killed himself because he believed in Tony, believed in the world they were trying to save. Together.

 

So he stopped himself, quenched the thirst of desire that had lighted up inside him.

 

Starks never get what they want. Why should Tony be any different?

 

_With great power comes great responsibility,_ Peter had said to him once, back when Tony had tried to convince him to let Spiderman go after the nightmares had become too much for him to handle, after every night he found himself crippling under the weight of the building the Vulture had dropped on him.

 

Peter. He didn’t deserve the kid, knew he would ruin him. Tony Stark ruined everything, for everything he touched wilted in his hands.

 

It was only the touch of his kid’s hands that brought him back to reality, the soft curls that his fingers had automatically laced itself with as he pulled his kid, his _son_ against him. “You’re okay, kid,” he found himself saying, sweet nothings that fell short even to his own ears but somehow managed to relax the inconsolable kid in his arms. “I’ve got you and you’re okay. I will never let anything happen to you, ever again.”

 

“I know, Dad,” Peter whispered. “I know.”

 

* * *

 

“Is everyone accounted for?” Tony asked Natasha later, after they had all gone back to the compound, after Tony and May had tucked Peter into bed, after Tony had felt Steve’s presence in every inch of the compound and nearly trashed it apart in retaliation.

 

“Everyone, except a baby,” Natasha said. “She is 6 months old. Her parents both died when Thanos’ army attacked yesterday. We can’t find any other family either.”

 

Tony finally turned around, saw Natasha carrying a baby in her arms, bundled up in blankets so tightly that the only thing visible to Tony was a tuft of dirty blonde hair. Tony walked over to the baby slowly. She seemed to have heard Tony, felt his presence because she opened her eyes to look directly at him.

 

“What is her name?” Tony whispered, captivated by the little girl’s wide eyes.

 

“Morgan,” Natasha said, and Tony remembered, remembered the dream, though he hasn’t thought about it in months.

 

“Call Pepper,” Tony said, “ask her to arrange adoption papers.”

 

He held his arms out, took Morgan in his arms and looked down at him, softly and with so much love he was left shocked for a second.

 

“Why?” Natasha said, though Tony knew she already knows the answer.

 

“She has Steve’s eyes,” he whispered, and it was all he needed to say for Natasha to give him a small peck on his cheek and walk out of the room, her phone already in her hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgan Steven Stark had a family, though it was the weirdest family anyone could ever have.

 

She was a healthy 2 year old now, and her favourite things in life could be summed up in one sentence: her daddy, her cool big brother Peter, and her favourite Captain America plushie her Uncle Bucky had bought her for her first birthday.

Not to say Morgan didn’t love her family, although her daddy and her brother were her favourites. She had a team of doting Uncles and Aunties- a superhero team, in fact. Between Tony, Peter, Pepper, May and the rest of the Avengers, Morgan never had a dull moment.

 

(Morgan always liked hanging out with Bucky the best, because Bucky would always tell her stories of her Uncle Steve. She was bright for a two-year-old- she got that from her father, everyone says. No one comments that she isn’t his kid, not biologically anyway, because it’s not a fact anyone remembers, or particularly cares about.)

 

(No, Tony was most definitely not jealous, shut up Sam.)

 

It was on the day of her second birthday, the compound bursting with activity (everyone had come, from Fury and Hill and Carol to Thor and Loki, who had turned up especially from Asgard and had currently positioned themselves on either side of Morgan, who was playing with Peter on May’s lap, giving any paparazzi who so much as looked at Morgan eyes that could kill) that Tony had remembered Steve’s words to him that day on Vormir. Tony had thought about it almost constantly, of course he had, but it was looking at this makeshift family that he had somehow got himself that he realised what Steve wanted him to do.

 

_Don’t waste your life,_ he had said.

 

_Let yourself be loved,_ he had meant.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Steve Rogers opened his eyes, he found himself somewhere that was most decidedly _not_ death.

 

“Steve,” came a voice, familiar, with a hint of Britishness and it made Steve’s heart ache.

 

“Peggy,” he said, his voice sounding foreign to him, still raw from the crying as he said goodbye to Tony.

 

“You’re late,” Peggy said, her eyes watery but her grin every bit as beautiful as it was seventy-five years ago.

 

“Yeah, I got caught up,” Steve said with a smile, his eyes watering up.

 

“Better late than never,” Peggy whispered, and she held her hand out for him to take. He pulled her against himself, lacing their fingers together as they swayed to no music. “I still don’t know how to dance,” he said.

 

“You seem to be doing fine, though,” Peggy whispered, resting her head against his shoulder as he closed his eyes and swayed to the rhythm set by her body.

 

“Steve,” Peggy whispered. “Hmm,” Steve replied, because he likes this moment, likes living in it.

 

“You need to go back, don’t you?” she whispered, pulling away.

 

“I like it here,” Steve said, not quite a lie, but not quite the truth either.

 

“I know you do, sweetie,” Peggy said with an understanding smile. “But this isn’t what you want anymore, is it? It’s him.”

 

Steve didn’t reply for a moment. “Are you real?” he asked.

 

Peggy smiled again, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss against his lips. “I’m as real as you are, honey. And as real as your love for him.”

 

“Peggy…” Steve began, not sure how to end the sentence he started.

 

“Go,” Peggy whispered. “Go back to him.”

 

When Steve Rogers opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was Tony, his eyes heavy with sleep as he stood on the other side of the breakfast bar. Steve laughed, maybe for the sense of déjà vu, or maybe because of the body he is currently in, physical and Tony’s.

 

“Good morning, Mr Stark,” Steve said conversationally.

 

Tony didn’t reply, just moved past him to grab some coffee, chugging the whole mug down with one sip. He opened his eyes again, rubbing at this furiously.

 

“Are you real?” he whispered, his voice broken and hopeful.

 

Steve didn’t say anything, just walked over to this man that he loves and fitted their mouth together softly, as if he had done it a million times before.

 

“As real as anything can be,” he said, still looking into Tony’s eyes.

 

The smile Tony gave him was blinding.

**Author's Note:**

> So fun fact: I was fully ready to leave Tony suffering at the end but my friend T talked me into giving our boys a break for once in their life. 
> 
> Also- I have made a new Tumblr account which I am planning to just share ficlets in, because I have all these ficlets which are too short to put up on here. It is peterpstark- hit me up with prompts, headcanons etc.


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